


Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?

by furious_hope



Series: Flares [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fire, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furious_hope/pseuds/furious_hope
Summary: Hestia Jones is alive. But she is allowed to mourn her losses.
Series: Flares [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565818
Kudos: 1





	Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?

Hestia Jones felt like crying. It was stupid, and she knew it. They were all so lucky. So many of the Order were dead, and she was grieving a smoking ruin of a building. It was just a house.

She could see the place the staircase had been. Almost all of the building was gone, but scraps of the staircase’s blue-patterned carpet which must have been thirty years old, which had had a tear from where she’d slid down it as a child, had somehow survived. Very little else remained. It must have been an incredibly powerful _Incendio_ to have such a destructive effect, or perhaps they had used Fiendfyre.

Her family and the people hiding with them had been lucky enough to have advance warning. Not much, but half an hour was long enough to get out. They hadn’t had time to grab anything much, and she had sat in the safehouse, staring at the odd bits and bobs they’d all gathered frantically. Her grandmother’s purls nestled in the pages of her father's ragged copy of _Go Tell It on the Mountain_ , their passports were mixed in with some old newpapers, and someone had grabbed some tea, for some reason. It was something though.

They’d tired to leave traces of all their magical signatures in the locked cellar, hoping that they’d be assumed dead. By the fact that the house was burned, they might well have managed it. She’d feel thankful for that. Later.

The weirdest part was that half the people who would have participated in such an attack had been her schoolmates. She’d done her homework with Lucius, and he was an arrogant arse who only associated with a halfblood so as to get Potions help, but he had occasionally made funny jokes, and he hadn’t beaten her up or anything. She just couldn’t imagine him or any of the others being Death Eaters. Attacking people, burning them alive, laughing about it. Except, she knew they were. She’d had to face it, because she’d duelled them on the street before, and it had been to kill. They felt like different people, unrelated to her school peers, though.

There weren’t exactly many Slytherins in the Order with whom she could discuss this. Plenty of Order members thought she was the spy as well, which hardly helped matters. Staring at a small fire that was still burning in one corner where two walls had collapsed, she thought about it. There was a good chance that some of them would put her family’s panicked night time escape down to not even being a target and it made her angry to consider.

She tried to calm herself, breathing deep. Her eyes watered even more as she smelt the smoke. It didn’t smell clean, like a woodsmoke. There was plastic, and fabric and wood and tiling and even metal and stone - it must have been Fiendfyre - and the whole thing stank, unpleasantly. All that was left of her home.

She was alive, goddamn it. Her family was alive and so were Ms. Gordan and Mr. Cheboi, and she needed to calm down. It wasn’t just a house that was gone, but **she was still here.** And she would give them what was coming for them for burning her home.


End file.
